


going through a tight wind

by antijosh



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Spiderman AU, alternatively titled "wen junhui the webslinging wonder-boy", friendly neighborhood spiderman wen junhui, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-19 02:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antijosh/pseuds/antijosh
Summary: For Junhui, the hardest part of being a friendly neighborhood superhero is getting Wonwoo to admit that it's cool.





	going through a tight wind

**Author's Note:**

>   * this was supposed to be a 1k ficlet but clearly it got away from me. i didn't consult a whole lot of comic or movie canon for this so. keep that in mind
>   * title from blitzkrieg bop by the ramones, as used in the "spiderman: homecoming" opening and credits
>   * slight tw for mention of date rape and the use of date rape drugs (addressed seriously, not as a joke). it's extremely brief but there nonetheless, so if that could bother you, please proceed with caution.
>   * special thanks to [max](http://archiveofourown.org/users/frigCal) for the encouragement and beta services!! you saved this fic i swear
> 


Being bitten by a spider was definitely not on Junhui's top ten days to remember. All the things that came after it were are fine and good (more than fine, great really, but that's a conversation for another time), but the incident itself left much to be desired. First of all, he would've liked to be taken to dinner before proceeding with the biting. It's just polite.

That's what Junhui was thinking about as he stumbled home, clutching his rapidly swelling wrist and cursing all the way. The warm summer night air only served to make him sweat and permeated the area with eau de garbage (though he may have contributed to that with a few kicks of pain aimed at the large black bags lining the street and sidewalk).

The dizziness hit him when he was just two blocks from his apartment building and he had to sink to the ground, squatting with his head in his hands and the curve of his spine pressing against rough brick. The pain came in waves and he let loose a volley of curses as another hit him, the ache permeating his whole body down to his toes. He was pretty sure this wasn't supposed to happen. He was really starting to regret not calling an ambulance immediately after the bite, but that would have involved revealing the illegal activities that led to his unfortunate situation, and that wasn’t really an option for Junhui.

Logically, Junhui knew there was no way he was making it the final two blocks to his apartment building, and then up the eight flights of stairs to the unit itself (because of course their elevator was still broken, it only worked on every alternate Tuesday). He could just wait out his slow and inevitable death out here on the street, but something about dying on a Queens street corner between mountains of trash bags sounded unappealing to Junhui.

Lifting his head, he squinted at the building across the street. It seemed familiar to him, even with his vision blurred by dizziness and pain. The realization came to him quickly; this was the building where Wonwoo, his silent crush turned best friend, lived. He could make it across the street and up to the second floor where Wonwoo’s apartment was—at least he hoped he could. Bracing his hands against the wall behind him, he rose to his feet slowly, wincing at the added pressure on his wrist. He started for the street, but quickly stumbled. He barely managed to catch himself on a light post before face planting into the street.

Okay, Junhui thought, gritting his teeth. New plan.

"Wonwoo Jeon!" He pushed his voice as loud as it could go, but it came out as more of a pain addled warble than a yell. "Wonwoo!"

He thought he heard a distant "shut the hell up!" from behind him—or maybe in front, or to the left, he couldn't tell. Apparently spider bites can also make your ears ring. He kept screaming anyway, eyes searching the second floor windows for any reaction.

Finally, one slid open and a familiar head of dark hair leaned out. Junhui wanted to cry with relief.

"Junhui what the fuck are you doing?" Wonwoo's question was a loud hiss, but Junhui tried his best to smile anyway.

"Wonwoo," he pleaded. "Come help me. Please." He couldn't see Wonwoo's face from across the street, but he heard something that might be another question before his vision went black and he was falling. The last thing he remembered was wondering why it was taking him so long to reach the ground.

 

* * *

 

When Junhui opened his eyes again, he was confronted with an unfamiliar ceiling and a blinding white light that he was not prepared for. Almost on instinct, he reached out to the side to feel for his surrounding, and his hand hit something very firm. He pushed it away as he sat up with a jolt, only to find Wonwoo—now on his ass on the floor—holding a flashlight and grumbling. Junhui decided to let that first detail go.

“What the fuck Jun?” Wonwoo grumbled. “I guess you're not dead, Jesus Christ.”

“Why would I be dead?” Junhui asked, squinting down at Wonwoo. Last nights events were hazy in his memory—he remembered a lot of pain, and some screaming and bright orange lights. Not very telling, but still. Didn't bode well.

“Uh, you passed out in front of my apartment building after screaming my name at one o’clock in the morning? I had to carry you in, you were barely breathing. Do you remember anything from last night?” Wonwoo’s brows were furrowed and his mouth turned down in a frown; Junhui got the idea he was probably supposed to have some answers. If only.

“Not really.” He shook his head in reply. “If you thought I was dead, why didn't you call a hospital or my mom or something?”

“You begged me not to? You really don't remember anything, damn. Some time after I brought you in you woke up and begged me to not call anyone and let you sleep it off here. Guess it was pretty stupid of me to listen.” Wonwoo snorted.

“No no, it's fine, I feel fine now,” Junhui replied quickly, hands going to his pockets to look for his phone. “I really should go, what time is it?”

“Past eight. My parents left for work already, you should be fine to leave. Are you sure you're okay though?” Wonwoo asked, finally pushing himself up off the floor and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Junhui nodded, finally pulling his phone from his back pocket. “Shit,” he hissed as soon as he saw the six missed calls from his mom. “I'm gonna be in so much trouble, I gotta go now. Thanks for bringing me in last night, I owe you,” he said quickly, patting Wonwoo’s shoulder as he brushed past him, heading for the door. Wonwoo caught Junhui’s elbow as he pulled his arm away, and Junhui turned back, confused.

“Jun, you'd tell me if you were in trouble or anything right?”

“What do you mean?” Junhui asked.

“Like...if you did stuff you normally wouldn't do...if someone made you do stuff…” Wonwoo trailed off, inclining his head to indicate some unspoken meaning that Junhui was much too distracted to pick up on.

“Like what Wonwoo, just tell me, I have to go,” he replied, tugging his arm away from Wonwoo insistently. He felt guilty for dumping his incapacitated self on Wonwoo at an ungodly hour and then running out the next morning, but he’d missed his curfew by about nine hours. His mom was going to kill him.

“Are you on drugs? Did you do drugs, last night? Or did someone slip you something, cause I swear I'll help you no matter what—” Wonwoo blurted out, eyes blown wide with concern.

“What? No, God no, nothing like that. I didn't do drugs and nothing...happened, I just—can I explain it to you later? I really, really have to go Wonwoo, I'm sorry.” Wonwoo seemed to accept that, releasing Junhui’s arm with a grin nod. “Thank you, again, I promise I'll explain later. I'm sorry,” he repeated, and then Junhui was out the door, heading home on autopilot. Jesus, what was he going to tell his mom?

 

* * *

 

Unsurprisingly, Junhui’s mom left his ears ringing and grounded for a month with no phone, sending him off to his room before he could get a word in edgewise. In typical teenager fashion, he slammed his door behind him before sinking down into his desk chair, bracing his elbows on the desk and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He winced at the flare of pain in his wrist and then squinted in confusion, raising his head and pulling up the sleeve of his thin hoodie to look at what might be causing it. Memories from the night before came flooding back almost as soon as he saw the round, red bite mark.

He remembered breaking into the lab on a dare (damn you, Soonyoung Kwon), and he remembered seeing the glass terrarium with lid askew, labeled with the words “Experiment 56729: araneae”. The next thing that came back was the memory of sudden pain, and looking down to see an angry red welt on his wrist and a small black spider scuttling away across the countertop.

Poking at the bite, he found that it didn't hurt much anymore, just when he put pressure on it or his wrist. He'd be fine, he reasoned. Well, besides his mom not letting him out of the house again until he's thirty.

Still tired from the previous night's happenings, Junhui decided he might as well just take a nap. When he used his hand to push himself out of the chair, he frowned as it stuck, almost as if there was glue on his fingertips. After he finally pulled it away, he clenched his hand into a fist and ran his fingertips over the back of his chair, only to find it completely smooth and free of any sticky residue. Weird, he thought, but not weird enough to keep him from his nap. He'd figure it out later, he resigned, and promptly passed out, clutching his pillow.

 

* * *

 

The next two weeks for Junhui were plagued with odd dreams, along with the occasional text from his friends, which were relayed to him from his mom when she was in a good mood. Wonwoo asked how he was doing, Soonyoung apologized for the dare that got Junhui grounded, and Seokmin said he was looking forward to seeing Junhui when school started in a few days.

While his friends being nice was weird, the dreams were weirder. Junhui was never one to remember his dreams, but for those two weeks he woke up almost every morning with the memory of flying over and between buildings, through Brooklyn and Queens and Manhattan. At one point he would swear that he actually perched on top of the biggest telescreen in Times Square, the dream was so vivid. He chalked it up to residual stress and the product of his boredom, brought on by only being allowed out to go run errands for his mother and being trapped in his room for the rest of the day.

Those two weeks dragged on for what seemed like eternity, but then it was the first day of school and Junhui’s mother was forced to let him out of the house for eight hours at a time (though not without a verbal assault detailing what would happen to him if he failed to come home straight after). It felt too soon for Junhui to be standing in front of Midtown Science and Tech, but he just set his jaw grimly, totally unprepared for the joys of junior year.

Junhui grimaced when he walked into his first period because while Wonwoo was nowhere in sight, Soonyoung and Seokmin were gesturing emphatically at him and pointing to an empty seat between them. He could have sat in any other empty seat, but they were his friends and Junhui never liked to disappoint. Somehow he managed to make it through the first class of the year without being terribly distracted by their whispered chatter and bickering, and was relieved to see Wonwoo in his calculus class the next period.

“Dude, where the hell have you been?” Wonwoo whispered across the aisle as Junhui slid into the seat next to him.

“On house arrest for not coming home that night,” Junhui replied, knowing that Wonwoo would realize exactly why he hadn’t been able to do anything the past two weeks.

Wonwoo nodded in acknowledgement. “You still owe me an explanation. I’ve been...worried about you.”

“Aw, stone cold Wonwoo does care about me after all.” Junhui grinned, reaching across the aisle with his elbow to poke Wonwoo in the shoulder. Wonwoo just grimaced.

“I’m serious, Junhui.”

“Sit with me at lunch, okay? I’ll tell you about it then, I promise.” Junhui’s words don’t seem to do much to ease Wonwoo’s mind because the furrow in his forehead only seems to deepen, but he obligingly turns back to face the front and doesn’t bring it up again during class.

At lunch, they made their way to a table towards the back and against the wall. Wonwoo plopped down across from Junhui, resting his elbows on the table and propping his chin on his linked fingers, staring expectantly. “Are you gonna tell me or do I have to ask again?”

“Well I was hanging out with Soonyoung,” Junhui began, stopping short at Wonwoo’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Of course you were. Most bad decisions happen in close proximity to Soonyoung.”

“What makes you think I made a bad decision?” Junhui asked, drumming his fingers on the table top next to his untouched tray of food.

“Did you not?”

Junhui thought for a moment, head cocked to the side, before pursing his lips and nodding. “No, I definitely did. It's not even that big of a deal. Soonyoung dared me to break into that big research lab—you know the one that starts with E that I can't pronounce? Anyway, I did, and one of the spiders had gotten loose and it bit me. But I felt fine the next day.” He shrugged. “See? No big deal.”

Wonwoo didn't look all too convinced as Junhui spoke, mouth pressed into a tight line, but he relaxed a bit when Junhui finished.

“Next time you decide to get bitten by a clearly venomous insect, how about you try the hospital first?” Wonwoo suggested sarcastically. Junhui laughed with him, but Wonwoo still seemed somewhat troubled. Junhui wrote it off as first-day jitters and tried to focus on eating his lunch, pointedly ignoring the stress he felt at not knowing what Wonwoo was feeling.

 

* * *

 

The stress of school kept Junhui from thinking about that eventful night for a few weeks afterward; he couldn't believe that he was already getting behind in calculus after only two weeks in the class. He still had those odd dreams of flying (though when he thought about it, it felt more like he was swinging) through the five boroughs, but they didn't trouble him much. If anything they were fun, even exhilarating.

Then one morning, Junhui was late for school. Really late. He'd had the dream again, but this time he remembered perching on top of his own apartment building—he'd recognized the ground below. By the time he'd finally woken up, first period was already over.

Junhui could hear his mom rummaging around in the hallway, and his heart crept up into his throat. If she caught him still at home he'd be grounded again, and his last punishment had only ended a few days ago. He shot out of bed, trying to get ready as fast as he could. He wouldn't be able to eat or brush his teeth, but if he was lucky he could get dressed and sneak out of the window, and hopefully make it down the fire escape without falling.

Junhui froze when he heard her footsteps approaching. He knew there wasn't anywhere for him to hide in his room; if she came in, he was dead. Back pressed to the wall, Junhui searched for any possible escape.

His door creaked open and Junhui shut his eyes, clinging to the wall as he tried to shuffle out of sight behind the door. He'd hoped to make it to eighteen before his inevitable death, but he supposed sixteen would just have to do. He heard his mom shuffling across his bedroom floor and drawers opening and closing, but she didn't say anything to him. Had she really not noticed him?

He slowly opened one eye, and Junhui almost threw up. He was staring down at the top of his mom’s head, and his entire bedroom from above. Looking frantically around, it occurred to him very quickly that he was on the ceiling. Not quite hanging though—it almost felt like he was glued to it. He tried to steady his breathing, and waiting for his mom to leave before willing himself to drop to the floor. In retrospect, he should have anticipated that his mom would hear the loud thud of his feet.

He cursed silently at himself. Then, an idea occurred. Like most of Junhui's ideas, if it went well he's be safe; if it failed, he'd probably die. Oh well, he thought. If he had to choose between death by concrete or death at the hands of his mother, he'd pick the concrete.

In a not so metaphorical leap of faith, he slipped out the window, throwing his shoes in his backpack and slinging that over his shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, he let his lower body fall until he was hanging on to the side of the building with only his fingertips on the outside ledge of his bedroom window. Junhui squeezed his eyes shut, legs swinging wildly until his sock-clad feet found grip on the rough brick. Just as they had inside, his toes and fingers seemed to stick—almost like double-sided tape. He took another deep breath in (this time in relief) before steadying himself and starting to climb down, moving one foot or hand at a time. As he made his way to the ground below, a thought flitted through his mind about what would've happened if he was wrong. He wondered if Wonwoo would've cried at his funeral; Junhui figured probably not.

When his feet finally hit the pavement, it also hit Junhui what he'd just done. He could literally climb walls—when the fuck did that happen? He started walking, but not towards school. He needed to figure this out, and he couldn’t do that at Midtown. He tried to think back to anything else strange that had happened, and he remembered the morning after the spider bite, and how his fingers had stuck to the chair.

Could this be because of the spider bite? It sounded like something straight out of a comic book, but Junhui supposed nothing was impossible. It was a lab spider that had bitten him, and there was no way for him to know what weird experiments and testing and shit had been done to the poor insect beforehand—yet another reason why that dare was a terrible, horrible idea.

He had to know how far this went. With his luck, he could probably sprout six more eyes and four more limbs (or something equally as weird). If he did get weird spider abilities from that bite, he had to test them out. At least he hoped there was more than one. He supposed wall climbing had served him well today, but it was a bit anticlimactic.

He made his way away from the heart of the city, till he found a nice abandoned spot under an old bridge.With nothing around to hurt but a couple of old garbage cans, Junhui figured this was as good a place as any to test out what he could do. He started with climbing the length of the bridge from the underside, discovering that his sticking abilities didn't seem to work through anything more than a thin layer of cloth.

To his dismay, he couldn't shoot webs from his fingertips or actually transform into a spider, but one well-placed kick of frustration at the concrete blocks of the bridge revealed some kind of super-strength, which Junhui was definitely not going to complain about.

Originally trying to test whether or not he could stop a fall with his sticking abilities, he discovered that his balance while walking along the metal railing of the bridge was much better than it should be, and his reflexes after he jumped off were unbelievably fast. Eventually he noticed the sun lowering behind the skyline, and he took off for home, gleeful as ever. He made a mental note to send Soonyoung a thank you text.

As much as he wanted to tell Wonwoo (and the whole city of New York), Junhui decided it was probably in everyone's best interest that he keep this to himself. Wonwoo had been worried enough about the initial bite—something that still gave Junhui a weird feeling in his stomach whenever he thought about it—and there was no point in worrying him more with this, albeit great, news. At least not yet.

Junhui couldn't stop thinking about his discoveries at school the next day. However, it still nagged at him that he couldn't shoot webs from his fingers, no matter how long he'd pointed at a wall and concentrated. As his chemistry teacher droned on about how the solution they were about to make would be highly reactive and very sticky and to _not touch it under any circumstance_ s, Junhui decided that just wouldn't do. He'd make his own webs.

It wasn't hard to alter their classwork—Junhui's lab partner Jeonghan was absent as usual. No one was there to notice that he was looking up what spider's webs were made of instead of looking at the lab directions online, or to see when he slipped a vial of his newly concocted web fluid into his bag.

Fashioning the wrist gauntlets was the hard part. It took much trial and error and more than a few all-nighters spent hunched over his desk with a screwdriver in his hand, but Junhui finally found a model that worked. He locked his door and spent the rest of the night covering his room floor to ceiling in webbing, practically giggling in delight.

It grew harder and harder to keep all this secret from his best friend, but Junhui honestly didn't know how Wonwoo would react if Junhui revealed what he'd been up to. He could already tell Wonwoo was growing suspicious of the amount of times Junhui went straight home instead of asking to hang out after school and all the mornings he walked in late because he’d been messing around with his web shooters instead of getting ready for school, but answering Wonwoo's questions would cause more problems than it would solve.

 

* * *

 

Since discovering the extent of what he could do, Junhui had taken to slipping out of his bedroom window at night and scaling the side of his building so he could perch on the roof. It got a little cold up there, but he loved the faint glitter of lights out on the horizon, and how it felt like he could see the whole city.

It was up on the roof one night that he saw Wonwoo coming home. At first Junhui’s eyes passed right over him, but the bright red backpack and Midtown Science and Tech hoodie made him do a double take. By the time he’s past Junhui’s building, Junhui could tell that it was Wonwoo walking on the street below him. He contemplated yelling his name, but that would require him explaining how and why he’s on the roof of his apartment building at nine thirty at night, so he contented himself with just sitting and watching to make sure Wonwoo got home safely.

Of course, that didn’t happen.

Another perk of getting bitten by a spider that’s had scientific experiments done on it was that Junhui got really, really good eyesight, which he was now using to see the two teenage boys coming out of a side alley, heading straight for Wonwoo. Junhui could feel his stomach drop down to his toes—this was not going to be good.

Any of his previous reservations long gone, he got a bit of a running start before jumping right off the roof, arms flailing wildly before he managed to shoot a web to secure himself to the brick for a more graceful swinging entrance. He tried to keep his eyes on Wonwoo, but in the split second he’d looked away, the two boys had advanced, and he could hear them talking, a gross combination of threats and lewd comments that made Junhui want to puke.

Junhui landed in a half-crouch, deliberately placing himself directly in front of Wonwoo. He heard a muffled curse and realized he’d landed on Wonwoo’s toes, but he figured Wonwoo would be thanking him later anyway; he could apologize then.

“Sorry I’m late to the party gentleman.” Junhui let his face fall naturally into a lopsided half smirk—he really should have expected to be punched after that. Luckily, that’s what good reflexes were for. He caught the attacker’s fist in his hand, pushing back with an added twist. This was going to be fun.

The other hooded figure didn’t stay stationary for long, and Junhui took a sudden punch to the gut and dropped the first guy’s hand in reflex. Wonwoo stepped out from behind Junhui and put his bony elbows to use, knocking the second guy away from Junhui, which gave Junhui the chance to really show off. He ran at the wall closest to them, using it to push off into a backflip and landing behind the two hooded figures while they were still looking at the wall.

Wonwoo stepped aside, allowing Junhui to sweep the legs of the guy closest to him and web the other one to the wall, face first. Wonwoo assisted by placing his foot on the back of the guy on the ground, allowing Junhui to web him safely and securely to the pavement.

Though it hadn’t lasted very long at all, Junhui was still riding the high of the confrontation, and turned to Wonwoo with a grin. It was Wonwoo’s wide eyes and clenched jaw that reminded Junhui that he’d done some things that Wonwoo had never seen before, and that he would now have to explain.

“What—” Wonwoo broke off almost as soon as he started, taking a deep breath as he struggled to find the words. “What was all that? What the hell did you just do? How the fuck are you even here right now?”

“Short version or long version?”

“Short version please,” Wonwoo replied narrowing his eyes in a glare.

Junhui almost began to talk, but then he remembered that while they might be incapacitated and not really able to talk, the two men on the wall and sidewalk could still hear anything they said. “Come with me,” Junhui said, motioning for Wonwoo to follow him further down the street, back towards Junhui’s apartment building. When he saw Wonwoo’s sour expression, he added a softer “please.”

When Junhui was satisfied by the distance between them and the two men, he stopped and turned to face Wonwoo, who crossed his arms and looked at Junhui expectantly. That was all the prompting Junhui needed.

“So remember when I got bit by a spider? Well after that I kinda got...powers. Like what I did just now,” Junhui began to explain, feeling somewhat giddy at the opportunity to tell Wonwoo everything and struggling to keep his voice low. He glanced over his shoulder, but it didn’t look like Wonwoo’s attackers had managed to get up and follow them.

“The spider bite that made you pass out also gave you magic powers?” Wonwoo’s voice was somehow still angry, though it was barely more than a hushed whisper. “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

“Not magic powers.” Junhui shook his head vehemently. “More like...a superhero, you know? Like Batman or something.”

“I thought the spider gave you powers, not shit tons of money,” Wonwoo snorted.

“Okay fine, like Superman,” Junhui admitted.

“You keep saying powers like there’s more you can do besides backflipping off of a building, what else can there possibly be?” Wonwoo asked.

“Can I show you back at my place?”

 

* * *

 

“Pretty cool right?” Junhui asked smugly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he balanced on a thin strand of webbing strung from one end of his bedroom to another. Wonwoo crossed his arms over his chest, looking unimpressed.

“You could join a circus,” he offered, and Junhui’s grin turned into a frown. Jumping off with a huff, he quickly started to cross the room to confront Wonwoo, but chickened out halfway there. Instead, he turned to scale the wall and spun a web so he could dangle from the ceiling, his face inches away from Wonwoo’s.

He expected Wonwoo to back up or push Junhui away in annoyance, but instead he just asked, “Did you tell anyone else about this?”

“No! It has to stay a secret.” Junhui’s eyes widened. “You can’t tell anyone else.”

“So...why’d you show me all this?” Wonwoo’s brows furrowed, which confused Junhui. He thought the answer to be obvious.

“You’re my best friend, Wonwoo, I’d trust you with my life.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And that was that.

 

* * *

 

“Wonwoo, I had the greatest idea,” Junhui declared one day at lunch. Wonwoo slid into the seat across from his with a sigh.

“What now?” he asked, seemingly unamused.

“So,” Junhui began, gesturing with his fork. “I have these awesomely cool powers that nobody else has. I should totally be out using them to help people and shit.”

“By doing what?” Wonwoo asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Well I’m basically a superhero, so I could do cool superhero stuff. Like thwart terrorist attacks.” Junhui grinned, but Wonwoo still looked unimpressed.

“Maybe you should start a little smaller,” he suggested. “You could try finding lost dogs first. Then work your way up to terrorists.”

“Oh fuck you,” Junhui replied good naturedly. “I'm too awesome to spend all my time finding lost pets. That's what flyers are for.”

“You still want to keep this whole thing a secret though, right?” Something in Wonwoo’s tone made it sound like he knew something Junhui didn’t.

“Of course.” Junhui frowned. “What, did you tell someone? Please don't tell me it was Seokmin, then the whole school will know.”

“No of course not,” Wonwoo snorted. “I'm not stupid. But how do you expect to go out and fight crime for the good people of New York if you don't want people to know who you are?”

“I need a disguise!” The idea hadn't occurred to Junhui until just then. Of course, now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Batman wore a suit and mask, Superman went by Clark Kent and wore glasses—all great superheroes had a disguise, or at least a nice outfit. Junhui had neither.

“The drama club is getting rid of some of their costumes, you might be able to use one of the bodysuits from last year’s play.” Wonwoo didn’t look up from his food, clearly still disapproving of Junhui’s idea. Junhui wanted to kiss him anyway.

He swallowed that thought down with his pizza, saying instead with a smile, “How did I ever survive without you, Wonwoo Jeon?”

“That is a question we may never know the answer to,” Wonwoo replied sagely, smirking at Junhui over the table. Junhui really wished his stomach didn’t flutter at the sight.

Following Wonwoo’s suggestion, Junhui found the bin of bodysuits next to the dumpster after school. He rooted through as fast as he could, glancing over his shoulder every thirty seconds or so to make sure no one would see him. Finally, he found one in his size. It was red and blue, though not quite gaudy enough—but Junhui could fix that.

Many painstaking hours of silkscreening later, the suit was covered in a dark webbed pattern and had two large spiders emblazoned on the chest and back. Satisfied that it was distinct enough (and now unrecognizable as property of Midtown Science and Tech Drama Department), Junhui shoved the suit in his backpack and took off for home with a grin. Now that he had a suit, it was practically official. He was a superhero. He was the fucking Spider-Man.

 

* * *

 

Fully equipped with web shooters and an awesome disguise, Junhui felt that he was ready to start defending the good citizens of New York. Unfortunately, Wonwoo had a point. In superhero movies, the threat always finds the hero. No threats had found Junhui yet, so he was reduced to putting on his spidey suit and going out to help the little guy. It wasn't awful, he had to admit. A nice lady bought him a churro for helping her with her groceries. It just wasn't what he had hoped for. It also did not make Wonwoo magically attracted to him, which had been a lingering thought in Junhui’s mind for a while.

Junhui had always tried his best to tamp down his feelings for Wonwoo. He'd figured out pretty quickly as a freshman that while he might think Wonwoo is pretty good looking (and funny and charming and a whole list of other adjectives Junhui wrote in the back of his journal when he was fourteen), Wonwoo is just interested in being friends. Wonwoo had never shown interest in anyone, really. That was fine with Junhui, of course, but some part of him had hoped that the whole having superpowers thing might have given him an edge. After all, if you're going to make an exception to date someone, you might as well date Spider-Man.

However, Wonwoo had remained largely unimpressed by Junhui’s abilities and enthusiasm for crime fighting (or more accurately, community service).

“Isn’t it cool having a superhero as a best friend?” Junhui asked, dangling from Wonwoo’s ceiling by a strand of webbing, feet pressed together and knees wide. (This had quickly become a favorite position of his—it made it easy to both annoy Wonwoo and hide from Wonwoo’s mom when necessary.) His mask lay on the floor beneath him, exactly where it had fallen after he swung in through the window and peeled it off.

Wonwoo sat at his desk, feet propped up on the corner as he absentmindedly threw mini paper airplanes at Junhui’s face. “Do you even count as a superhero? I mean no offense, but superhero makes you sound like you’re Superman and save the world from destruction. You give people directions and help old ladies find their cats.”

“I have super powers and wear a suit, therefore I am a superhero,” Junhui replied with a frown, catching one of Wonwoo’s airplanes to launch back at him. Wonwoo swatted it away with ease.

“Fine. But you’re like a friendly neighborhood superhero. You’re the guy people call when their cat is stuck in a tree or they can’t reach the cereal on the top shelf.”

“Fuck you,” Junhui replied easily, spinning himself around in a slow, lazy circle.

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing,” Wonwoo defended, ceasing his paper airplane barrage. “Someone’s gotta look out for the little guy. That’s you, spider boy.”

“Spider-Man,” Junhui corrected. “No one would take me seriously if I called myself Spider-Boy.”

“Yes, because Spider-Man is so professional.” Wonwoo nodded slowly, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Junhui shot a web into his hair, just to spite him.

 

* * *

 

Something about that conversation with Wonwoo stuck with Junhui. It got under his skin, and had him thinking back to it a week later.

“Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,” Junhui snorted to himself, crouching behind a dumpster so he could peel his mask off. So far he’d rescued a stolen bike, given a group of tourists directions, and broken up a fight between two stray cats. A productive evening for a boring superhero, he thought.

It still irked him that Wonwoo seemed entirely unimpressed by his newfound abilities. More than that, it irked Junhui that he had these abilities and still felt like he wasn’t doing enough with them. Sure, it was nice to help out in little ways, but New York was full of bigger thefts and assault and murder, and he wasn’t doing anything to stop any of that.

Loud voices and a crash across the street caught his attention and pulled him out of his thoughts, and he quickly pulled his mask back on to go investigate. Through the large glass windows of the bank across the street, he saw the lone teller with his hands over his head, being threatened by three masked men dressed in all black. It didn’t take long for Junhui to piece together what was going on, and even less time for him to decide to step in. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man my ass, he thought. Wonwoo would have to admit that thwarting a bank robbery was cool.

Junhui was not entirely ready for the upgrade from friendly neighborhood superhero. He was used to stopping the kind of thieves who steal purses from old ladies, not the kind who wear ski masks and rob banks. The former don’t tend to fight back; the latter most definitely will. Of course he came out on top, with the offenders webbed very securely to a column, but he most definitely did not make it out without his share of battle scars.

That was how he found himself perched on Wonwoo’s bedroom windowsill, his face throbbing in pain. He knocked quietly, three short taps that had Wonwoo rushing to the window, motioning for Junhui to move back so he could open it. Junhui slipped inside as soundlessly as he could, but pursed lips couldn’t muffle his grunt of pain as the shock of landing on the floor jostled his injured knee and ankle.

Wonwoo recognized that something was wrong immediately. “What the hell happened?” he asked, looping an arm around Junhui’s waist to help him to the bed. Junhui braced his arms on the edge of the mattress, trying to find the words to explain as Wonwoo knelt on the floor in front of him.

“Can I?” Wonwoo asked, motioning at Junhui’s face.

“Yes.” Junhui’s voice was low and thick with the pain of speaking—the cut on his chin only seemed to worsen with movement.

Wonwoo held the bottom of Junhui’s mask with both hands, pulling it up and off with care. His eyes widened, and Junhui winced. He knew he must look terrible—black eye, busted chin, bleeding nose. His hair fell into his eyes, but before he could go to fix it, Wonwoo brushed it up and off his forehead for him.

As he let his hand fall, Wonwoo’s fingers skimmed Junhui’s cheekbone down to his jaw, and there was a flash of something in his expression Junhui didn’t recognize.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, quickly rising to his feet. The door was shut behind him before Junhui could even say ‘okay.’ Junhui decided to take the opportunity to strip himself out of the rest of his suit. He prodded at the bruises blossoming on his chest as he kicked the pile of spandex off his feet, goosebumps raising on his arms as the cool air his his skin. Judging from Wonwoo’s reaction to his face, Junhui really didn’t want Wonwoo to see the rest of him. Junhui quickly spotted a tee shirt draped over the foot of Wonwoo’s bed and tugged it on, figuring Wonwoo wouldn’t mind too much. Junhui was injured, after all.

“I brought the first aid kit,” Wonwoo announced as the door creaked open, holding it out towards Junhui. “And a bottle of water and an ice pack. Aren’t you cold?” His question was accompanied by a glance at Junhui’s legs, which were mostly exposed by his briefs.

Junhui opened his mouth to say no, that he was fine, but the downturn of Wonwoo’s mouth made him want to tell the truth. “Yeah, a bit,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around himself. Moving quickly to drop the bottle of water and first aid kit on the bed, Wonwoo went to his closet, pulling a soft-looking quilt out and draping it over Junhui’s legs.

“Thanks.” Junhui gave him a closed-mouth smile. Wonwoo nodded in acknowledgement, kneeling in front of Junhui again and opening the bottle of water, pressing it into Junhui’s hands before digging into the first aid kit.

“Drink,” he ordered, not looking up. Junhui complied immediately. Wonwoo finally found everything from the first aid kit he had been looking for and when he looked up, Junhui could have sworn that his glance flitted to Junhui’s throat as he swallowed. Then again, Junhui did get hit in the head pretty hard.

“This might hurt,” Wonwoo warned, taking an antiseptic wipe and dabbing it on Junhui’s chin. Inhaling through his nose, Junhui looked up at Wonwoo’s ceiling and tried to ignore the fact that there was a swelling in his chest and a flutter in his stomach.

Wonwoo moved methodically, cleaning any cuts on Junhui’s face before moving on to applying Neosporin and Band-Aids where necessary. He didn’t ask Junhui any more questions, only speaking to direct Junhui to move his head this way or that. Finally, he handed Junhui the ice pack wrapped in a small towel, instructing him to hold it on his black eye to help the bruising and swelling. Rocking back on his heels, Wonwoo stood and began to silently clean up and put away the supplies he’d pulled out.

“I’m okay,” Junhui said, and it seemed louder than it should be in the silence of the room.

“No, you’re not,” Wonwoo replied, a sharp edge in his voice. “How exactly are you okay, Junhui?” He turned to face Junhui, practically slamming the bag he was holding on the desk. His eyes were murderous. “This,” he gestured to Junhui’s entire body, “this is okay?”

“It’s not serious Wonwoo, it’s just some cuts and bruising. I’ll heal.” Junhui set his jaw and glared right back at Wonwoo. He knew Wonwoo would be mad, but this was a set of emotions he’d never seen from Wonwoo before.

“That’s not the point!” Junhui had never heard Wonwoo raise his voice like that either. “You obviously put yourself in danger, and you got hurt. For what, Junhui? You’re not the police, you don’t need to do this shit!”

"What kind of person would that make me, Wonwoo?" Junhui spat back, anger rising in his chest. Wonwoo's comforter was balled up in his fists. "What kind of person gets these amazing abilities and doesn't use them to help people?"  
"Someone who values his own well being, for one," Wonwoo replied, crossing his arms with a huff.

"They had _guns_ , Wonwoo, they could've hurt somebody!"

" _They_ had _guns_? You fought multiple people with guns? And they did hurt somebody, they hurt you! Jesus, Junhui, you've got to be kidding me!" Wonwoo tipped his head back, running both hands through his hair.

"Look, I know you think this whole thing is stupid and that I should mind my own business, but it's not right for me to just look the other way when someone tries to rob a bank," Junhui replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You stopped a bank robbery?" Wonwoo's head snapped back down and he looked Junhui in the eye with an intensity Junhui wasn't prepared for. "Jesus," he repeated, shaking his head. "Did it ever occur to you that I didn't encourage your superhero antics because of shit like this? I wanted you to stay the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, I was trying to keep you safe, damn it!”

“I don't need you to keep me safe!” Junhui pushed himself up off the bed, closing most of the distance between him and Wonwoo in two long strides.

“I know you don't need me to, I just—” Wonwoo’s voice broke, and that hit Junhui harder than he would have liked. “I want to, okay? You're my best friend Junhui, you're more than my best friend.”

“Just because you think we’re blood brothers or some shit—” Junhui began, ignoring the sharp pang in his chest at the insinuation that his underlying feelings were unwanted, but Wonwoo cut him off quickly.

“I don’t,” he said. “I don’t see you as a brother.”

If Junhui was as smart as he’d like to think he is, he would have kept his mouth shut and thought about that before responding. However, that is not what happened. “What do you mean then?” he asked, before he had the chance to process what Wonwoo was saying.

“I mean that I like you, dumbass.” Wonwoo sounded completely fed up, which was a pretty accurate depiction of what it was probably like to have feelings for someone like Junhui.

“You what?” Junhui was suddenly aware of how exposed he was, standing in front of Wonwoo in just a stolen tee shirt and boxer briefs.

“I like you. As in have feelings for you? So you're not getting an apology for me wanting to protect you, cause—”

It was rare that Junhui wanted Wonwoo to stop talking, but now was definitely one of those occasions. In another rare occurrence, Junhui didn't overthink things and just took a final step forward to close the distance before taking Wonwoo's face in his hands and pressing their lips together. It was short and chaste, but when he stepped back again Wonwoo's murderous glare had softened into something that was halfway between shock and what Junhui thought could be love (or something close to it).

"I like you too. In case that wasn't obvious," Junhui offered, anxious to fill the silence.

"I got that, yeah," Wonwoo nodded. "We should. Do that again." Wonwoo's stilted speech was awkward in the most adorable way, and Junhui was all too happy to comply.

When they pulled apart again, Junhui's face broke into a grin. "You know you're kissing Spider-Man, right?"

"Shut the hell up."

Junhui could get used to this. Yeah, he could really get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr [here](http://antijosh.tumblr.com) or on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/pwjno). i'd like to think i'm pretty friendly so if you wanna come yell at me on either platform about seventeen or superheroes, please feel free~


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